


Adore

by dementia9



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Arsenal FC, F/M, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementia9/pseuds/dementia9
Summary: In December of 2019, retired player Mikel Arteta returns to Arsenal Football Club to coach the team he once captained. But he faces a test in the presence of Héctor Bellerín, who no longer wishes to deal with him after the abrupt end of their affair three years before.
Relationships: Héctor Bellerín/Kieran Tierney, Héctor Bellerín/Mikel Arteta, Mikel Arteta/Lorena Bernal
Comments: 14
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for a few months, going back and forth with whether I should post it or not. In any case, I have chosen to do so. Enjoy!

_Mikel Arteta lifted his head from between the sweat-slicked legs of the young man in his bed, his breath coming out in sharp gasps. In the candlelit room, he stared as the boy came down from his high, his eyes closed and his lips parted, moaning softly. His body was feverish, and he panted heavily, spent from his orgasm. It was one of many eruptions the elder man triggered that night with his thick cock and dangerous tongue. The boy lost count after an earlier frantic ride that left his voice hoarse from Mikel’s strong thrusts._

_And yet, Mikel noticed, he was hardly a boy. Héctor Bellerín was a striking, sinewy eighteen-year-old with a sunny personality and a drive to succeed. His deep brown eyes were the initial attraction for Mikel, shining with the joy of youth and an unusual sensuality. Even now, he could not say the young man lacked passion. He looked at Héctor in his current state, ever the full package: His short dark hair, normally coiffed into a gelled pompadour, sat matted on his forehead and against the pillow. His prominent nose and strong cheekbones produced a dignified profile, even as he came down from the afterglow. His soft bow-shaped lips were red and swollen from the heady kisses the two of them shared. His arms were swathed in tattoos, which disappointed Mikel as he believed his skin - a gleaming olive tint from a summer tan - never needed to be hidden. He loved the sound the young man made every time he touched his body, at times deep moans that filled the room and hardened Mikel’s cock even more. A caress to the neck made him sigh; kisses to the spine made him giggle._

_And then there was his ass, well-rounded and firm. Mikel could not keep his hands off it if he tried. Even now, as he watched Héctor gather himself, he slowly let his fingers slip between the moist cleft, which – with some strength - earned him a slap to the hand._

_“_ Ay _, Héctor,” he hissed, pulling his hand away as his eyes widened in shock._

 _“_ Joder _, Miki,” Héctor rasped, running a hand across his chest, “you’re gonna kill me! I can’t cum anymore!”_

 _Mikel sighed, “I’m sorry,_ nene _. You bring it out of me. I promise I’ll let you rest until morning.”_

_Héctor’s laugh was throaty, his eyes fluttering open as he looked at Mikel lying between his thighs. He blew a kiss in Mikel’s direction, as if to forgive him. Mikel smiled widely as he crawled beside his young lover and pulled him in his arms, pressing his lips against his damp forehead as Héctor snuggled in his embrace. He looked at Mikel, who stroked Héctor’s flushed face with the back of his hand before leaning closer to his mouth._

_“You’re so beautiful, Héctor,” he whispered before their lips met._

_He pulled away as his head dipped further into the crook of Héctor’s neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking at the flesh. Héctor moaned and shut his eyes again, sliding his hands up Mikel’s sweaty, muscular back. He knew it was going to happen again; Mikel could not wait for morning._

_And, he had to admit, neither could he._

_“Ah, Miki,” he whispered, his member beginning to stiffen as Mikel reached down to stroke him. “Miki, please…. Miki… Miki…”_

************************

Mikel sat up in bed, sweat pouring down his forehead. The room was mostly dark, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window. His breath shook as he jumped at the sound of the tree branches scratching the pane from the biting December wind. He looked beside him and found Lorena, still fast asleep. Her breathing was even, her face peaceful as she slept on her side, her body facing her husband. Reaching over, he brushed a lock of hair from her face, his eyes studying her frame before he bent down to kiss her cheek.

 _Bless her_ , he thought. _She does not know the torture_.

With a sigh, he threw off the comforter and climbed out of bed, walking to the bathroom. Flicking the light switch on, he closed the door behind him and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face. He knew he had to stop having these dreams. If there had been any effect, Lorena had not shown it. She was gorgeous, effervescent, and faithful, and he loved her madly.

But it was not the same.

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again. The memory was heady, passionate, intense. It had only been six years, but even then, it felt too long. The more he thought about it, the more his guilt grew – not just for Lorena, but for Héctor, as well. Héctor was sweet, intelligent, and independent, but he was also a little naïve. The nights the two men shared together were incredible, in part because there was access. At the time, Héctor was living with the family, and every chance they had – when Lorena and the children were not around – they would make love. If the neighbors knew anything, they did not say, but the men were both aware of the commotion they were stirring.

For Mikel, Héctor’s presence was necessary. He had been married for a few years, but something felt…off. It bothered him that he was excited about Héctor’s presence more than he should have been. He was just playing on the same football team, that was all. But Mikel was already an established player, and Héctor was just starting; for them to engage in an affair surely would have meant scandal if they were found out, so he swore Héctor to secrecy. Mikel did not want to sully his youth by taking advantage of him, but that was what he did in the end.

He walked to the toilet and lifted the seat, his body shaking as he urinated. He felt tears prick his eyes, and he used the back of his other hand to wipe them away. All he wanted to do was change the past, to have kept himself at a distance and never have interacted with Héctor. But it did not help that he was his countryman, someone who he could relate to and mold as he was younger than him. Mikel was such a leader in that way.

After flushing the toilet and washing his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. The lines on his face were not deep, and he was still handsome. But he was thirty-seven now, and while he was not old, he certainly felt age creep up on him. It must have been a slow progression because he was not aware of it before. Running around chasing three boys certainly kept it at bay. But he was now retired from playing football, and whatever ached briefly before began to linger over time now. Given that he was still young, however, he decided to go into management.

He was not sure why he wanted to be a football manager, but it seemed the natural progression from being a player. He believed it was a good idea, and he was not about to change his mind now. He trained for a few years as an assistant at Manchester City before deciding to become one full-time, and after being turned away from other clubs, he figured the best place to start was at Arsenal Football Club, somewhere he was familiar with and had an affinity for.

And where he would be reunited with Héctor.

***********************

Héctor Bellerín fumed as he stood by the window of his bed in the dark, puffing on a cigarette. He rarely smoked, seeing as his career was based on his being healthy and avoiding such habits. However, upon hearing the news, he could not help but feel a sense of dread, the sting of the old wound in his heart returning. Mikel Arteta’s appointment came suddenly after the last manager’s firing, but he knew the owners had been looking for some time. He thought he would be happy to see him, but it was a case of ‘too much, too soon’. And leaving the club was currently out of the question.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

He smashed his cigarette out into an ashtray on the windowsill and returned to bed. Settling on the mattress, he rubbed his left knee, which had been on the mend after a severe ligament tear; tomorrow was going to be a long day. As he closed his eyes to finally fall asleep, he resolved to grin and bear it if he saw Mikel walking by.

His job – and sanity – depended on it.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No promises, but I plan to post weekly. I have classes and work, but I'm grateful to be writing again.

Héctor kept one hand on the steering wheel as he drove himself to the building the next day, the other hand pressing buttons on the deck to change the song selection. Strangely, he could not get into the mood, and he turned the stereo off. He stifled a yawn and tried to keep his focus on the road. The night had been a restless one, but he could not show it at work.

As angry as he was about Mikel’s impending return to the club, he could not deny that he missed him; the extra time in the shower this morning certainly proved that. He remembered the last time they were together before Mikel retired from playing. It had only been two-and-a-half years of sneaking around, but it felt as new as the first time – hands all over each other, lips locked in a messy tangle, fingers fumbling with zippers and buttons. That night, Mikel gave Héctor a blowjob so passionate he nearly fainted with pleasure. The memory of the elder man’s warm mouth alone made him cum twice in the shower and collapse against the marble wall, the suddenly frigid water reminding him he had been in there too long.

And then, the goodbye. Mikel’s expression was as cold as ice, as if nothing ever happened.

Héctor pulled up at a stoplight and rubbed a hand over his face, shaking the thought from his already cluttered mind. He knew had to get over it, and playing on the pitch was a welcome distraction. And yet, he knew it would be strange having a former co-worker – his former _lover_ – coach him. It was not that he did not trust Mikel to do the job; he would grow into it and figure things out as he always did.

What scared Héctor the most was that he was afraid of falling back in love with Mikel, after he finally decided to let his heart heal.

When he made it to Colney, Héctor parked in his usual spot but did not exit the vehicle. He turned the ignition off and sat there with his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. He shook his head and bit his lip – he was not going to cry today. He cried for that bastard for too long. With a sigh, he let his hands fall against his lap and leaned against the headrest, trying to breathe. He had only been there for a few minutes before a rap on the window broke his reverie.

“Heccy,” a familiar voice called to him as he opened his eyes, “you a’ight?”

The Glaswegian accent soothed him immediately, and he had to laugh. He shook his head as he pressed a button to roll down the window. The face that greeted him was etched into concern, but softened with a small smile. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt in the cold compared to the Spaniard’s heavy winter coat, as if immune to the weather conditions. Héctor let out a huge breath as he recognized the kind brown eyes, matching the young man’s smile with his own.

“Hey, KT,” he sighed. “Didn’t see you standing there.”

“KT” was Kieran Tierney. He had arrived at Arsenal from Celtic Football Club in Glasgow, tough as nails with a strong work ethic. He was nearly two years younger than Héctor, but he had been a seasoned captain of his team. And while not into dirty play, he had shown he could be a fighter, unwilling to back down from his opponents. It was something of a blessing and a curse, especially when some of his teammates got into fierce debates with him about the direction of a game.

With Héctor, however, he found a kindred spirit, and not just because they were defenders. Both had been recovering from injuries, and rehab sessions became less of a chore and more of a competition to see who was faster on the pitch during races. Héctor was the first to make him feel at home at the club, and almost immediately, a friendship was born.

Kieran stepped back as Héctor opened the door of his car. He stepped out with his bag and car keys in his hand and closed the door behind him before pulling Kieran in for a one-armed hug, his lips brushing against the Scotsman’s cheek.

“You okay there?” Kieran asked again as they pulled back.

“Got a lot on my mind, yeah,” Héctor replied as they started walking inside. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Kieran raised an eyebrow. “That’s been happenin’ a lot lately with you. Anything you wanna talk about?”

Héctor shook his head. “Not really.”

As the gravel crunched underneath their feet, Kieran spoke up, “So, you’ve heard about the new coach comin’ in? I hear he used to play for the club.”

“Yeah,” Héctor replied, stretching the word into two syllables. “I, uh, used to play with him before he retired a few years ago.”

Kieran turned toward him in surprise. “Oh, yeah?”

Héctor chuckled, “Yeah. He was the captain of the team back then. My first game for Arsenal, I subbed in for him.”

“Well, he might be good for us,” Kieran replied. “I’m sure you’d like to see him again, eh?”

Héctor shrugged silently, which Kieran noticed. He stopped in front of Héctor and grabbed his shoulders, slowing his pace as they approached the door. Héctor was stunned as the young man stood in front of him, blinking several times to get his focus.

“KT, what…?” he started.

“Listen,” Kieran began softly, “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m a little worried about you. I mean, yeah, we see you jokin’ around with the boys and all the staff, but…something’s off. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but… Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Héctor’s eyes looked downward before facing Kieran’s again. Heaving a sigh, he nodded before reaching up and squeezing one of Kieran’s hands. “Thanks. It’s a bit complicated, but I’ll let you know. I promise.”

Kieran stared for a minute before nodding back. He walked over to the door and opened it while Héctor followed behind. Even as they walked side by side to the locker room, he knew Héctor was not well. Whatever was ailing him, he aimed to fix it somehow.

*******************

_The sun was breaking through the clouds when the men woke up, still alone in the house. Holding each other close, they looked at each other and smiled before sharing a kiss. Mikel sighed as Héctor placed a kiss over his heart, pressing his body closer._

_“_ Buenos dias, cariño _,” Mikel said, his voice hoarse with sleep._

_“Good morning,” Héctor whispered in his best English, eliciting a chuckle from Mikel._

_“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Mikel said to Héctor as they were laying in bed._

_Héctor lifted his head and stared at Mikel, his eyebrows furrowed into question marks. “What do you mean?”_

_Mikel could barely come up with the words. An affair was dangerous for a married man, no matter the partner. But here was an eighteen-year-old upstart at his club, a young man. No amount of reassurance could make the optics appear any better._

_“I wasn’t supposed to fall for you,” Mikel finally whispered, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from Héctor’s eyes. “This...” He waved a hand over their sheet-covered bodies. “This was forbidden.”_

_Héctor swallowed and looked down at Mikel’s chest. “Do you… Do you regret what we did last night?”_

_“No, no, no,” Mikel answered quickly, sitting up in bed. “Not at all. It’s just that… I don’t want to hurt you, and I hope you’ll forgive me if I did.”_

_Héctor shrugged. “What’s there to forgive? It was mutual. We…slept together. I’m not ashamed of that. But are you really falling for me?”_

_Mikel looked down and blushed, “Hard. Really, since the day I met you.”_

_Héctor chuckled, pulling the sheet closer to his body. “You know, I hadn’t thought about something like this. I thought I was here to play football. I don’t know what I feel for you yet, but… You made me feel so comfortable. You’ve been so sweet to me. I don’t know how to thank you.”_

_He stared at Mikel for a moment before he closed the gap between their lips. Mikel wrapped his arms around his body as he felt Héctor’s weight pushing him against the mattress, the two of them rutting against each other before Héctor pulled back. He stroked Mikel’s cheek lovingly, his chest heaving against the elder’s body._

_“I will never hurt you, Héctor,” Mikel whispered. “I swear.”_

_“Promise?” Héctor whispered back._

_“I promise.”_

*******************

Sometimes the thoughts came during the day. Héctor hated the distraction. He almost missed a cross in practice, and he nearly injured his right leg trying to make a run for goal, an ill-timed pass almost landing him into a split. Realizing his error in judgment, he recovered quickly, but the mistakes were hard to miss. It embarrassed him to know these things were happening, but he was thankful most everyone chalked it up to his recovery process.

Kieran, on the other hand, knew better. Running across the pitch, he saw Héctor’s fumble and winced, hissing to himself. Sure, Héctor was healing physically, but their brief conversation earlier that morning – not to mention the state he found Héctor in while he was sitting in his car – indicated there was more than met the eye.

When practice ended, Héctor made a beeline for the showers, while Kieran jogged behind. They would normally wait for each other, but in the wake of his disastrous practice, Héctor was in no mood to talk. Sensing this, Kieran quietly wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders and squeezed him close. Héctor fought through his desire to shrug him off and accepted the hug, rubbing a palm across his face.

“I was shit today, man,” he whispered, his voice nearly breaking. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

“Everyone’s allowed a shit day, even you,” Kieran reassured him. “But I think you know exactly what’s wrong with you, and I think I do, too.”

Héctor stopped walking and faced him. He was never particularly good at hiding his emotions, and he knew Kieran understood that.

“You know,” Kieran began, “ever since the news came out about Mikel Arteta comin’ in to coach, you’ve been distant. You try to play it off like you’re not bothered, but it’s obvious you are.”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Héctor replied, starting to walk away. But Kieran’s hand held firm against his arm.

“Listen,” he retorted, his voice softening, “I won’t keep you, Héctor, but I’m your friend. I just want to help. You can trust me, you know that. All I want to know is, did he hurt you in some way?”

Héctor opened his mouth, but before he could answer, one of the trainers sidled up to them and asked, “Is everything alright here, lads?”

Héctor smiled and answered, “Everything’s alright, Gary. We’re just talking, yeah.”

Gary chuckled, “Well, you might want to get inside and do that. It’s bloody cold out!” He motioned to Kieran with a nod of the head. “Although, Kieran would say otherwise…”

The two players laughed, decreasing the tension. They thanked him before resuming their conversation. Héctor looked Kieran in the eye, his breath shaky as he sighed for the umpteenth time.

“Look, it’s freezing out here,” he began, rubbing his arms up and down, “but to answer your question, it’s a long story. However, I’m not quite ready to speak about all that, and I don’t want that to cloud your judgment of him before he gets here. He’s doing a job he’s never done before, and it’s best that everyone keeps an open mind, including me. So, whatever’s bothering me, I’ll just have to learn to get over it.”

“But, Héctor…”

“I know, Kieran,” Héctor replied as he walked away. “I know.”

Running a hand through his close-cropped ash blond hair, Kieran watched Héctor’s retreating form and suppressed a frustrated growl. As stubborn as he could be, the Spaniard really found a way to test his patience. Nonetheless, as he jogged inside the building to catch up with his friend once again, he vowed to respect his space and wait for the story, however long it took for Héctor to tell it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best chapter. I struggled a bit with this one, but I hope you enjoy it!

Mikel could hardly feel his feet as they hit the ground. Every morning he ran outside, the need for exercise never leaving him. He was dressed from head to toe in black, including his beanie; he still could not get used to English winters, but running made up for it.

The wind whipped around him as he ran, the cold seeping into his throat. He blew the vapor out with relative ease, never relaxing his pace. He needed to get out of the house for a while, away from Lorena and the children. It was not their fault; he was deeply conflicted. Running, it seemed, was always the easiest thing to do.

He ran the quiet streets of his Islington neighborhood without interaction. People were certainly up, but they were running errands or in their houses. Cars occasionally whizzed by, but all Mikel concentrated on was the music from his headphones blasting in his ears and the drumming of his feet against the sidewalk. He was going to start the job in two days, and he was planning to go to Liverpool the day before to watch the interim head coach during a match. Héctor would have to wait.

 _Héctor_. The thought of him warmed his body from within. The young man was playing for the first team, so he would have time to interact with him. He almost wished he did not. It was probably better that way: too many memories, too many broken promises. But the image of the young man kept him going as he ran, his feet carrying him further and further from home. Home was Lorena and the boys, and Mikel could not imagine life without them, but Héctor was exotic and magical. Even now, he tasted his kisses in the wind; he inhaled his cologne in the ether.

He tried to recapture that magic with Lorena earlier this morning, peppering kisses along her neck and spine. He was used to her breasts, her hips, her voice, her rhythms. Somehow, it still managed to drive him mad with desire. But it was different now, and undeniable. And it changed with the job offer.

_Fuck!_

He slowed his pace as he came to an intersection, bending down to put his hands on his knees and catch his breath. He needed to stop this. He had to be a professional once he walked through those doors, and it was not going to be easy. He checked his watch and found that he had been outside for forty-five minutes. He turned around and made his way back home, resigned to his fate. There was to be no rekindling the flame.

**********************

“So,” Lorena began as she busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch, “how do you feel about coaching the team? Are you excited?”

Mikel chuckled a bit at his wife’s words as he set the table. “Well, _cariño_ , it’s definitely going to be a new experience! I just hope I do well.”

“Oh, _amor_ ,” Lorena cooed, looking up from stirring the pot of soup, “you’ll do well. I don’t think the managers would have trusted you with the job if they didn’t think you were capable.”

Mikel smiled at his wife’s words, but he felt his stomach clench at the word ‘trusted’. There was weight to that word that not only would impact his future, but certainly affected his past and disrupted his present.

“I am happy to be back in London,” he replied, setting the remaining cutlery down and approaching his wife. “I have missed it. Big city, bright lights. I like the quiet of the countryside, but every once in a while, we can take the boys into the city and just have some fun together.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek, leaning his head against hers as she embraced him back. She rubbed her nose against his and giggled quietly.

“You know who would really love to see you back?” she asked him, almost conspiratorially.

“Who?” Mikel sighed dreamily.

“Héctor,” Lorena replied.

Mikel gently pulled away from his wife and looked at her curiosity, trying not to hide his surprise. “Really?”

Lorena shrugged with a smile. “Why not? He lived with us, and he’s never left London. He’s practically family. He hasn’t seen Oliver since he was a baby. It’s been a few years. I think he’d be the first to welcome you back.”

Mikel stood looking into space. “It has been a while, hasn’t it? I miss him. Sure, there others, but…” He trailed off.

“I know,” Lorena whispered, “but the two of you were very close. Maybe you’ll pick up where you left off.”

Mikel sighed, nodding to himself. His words were true, but he did not want to resume their affair. He felt he worked too hard to keep his marriage together, and Lorena had not suspected anything. He pulled away from his wife to let her finish cooking and settled his hand on the counter.

“You remember when he stayed here all those years ago?” Mikel asked, tapping a finger against the marble.

Picking up the knife to chop vegetables, Lorena sighed, “I remember. He was such a big kid! He was perfect for the children. Gabriel worshipped the ground he walked on. He was always playing with him. Daniel was too young, but I know Héctor adored him just as much.”

She glanced over at Mikel and notice a faraway look in his eyes. She rubbed the back of her hand against his cheek, and Mikel could not help but smile.

“The boys will love to see the Emirates,” he said, almost to himself.

Lorena snickered and continued her chopping. She knew he was nervous, but thinking about his family’s presence always calmed him down. Mikel straightened up and walked back to the table to resume his task.

“You know, Lori,” he began, picking up a spoon, “I worried about returning, not just because of my own insecurities. I know I’m not experienced. But what I worried the most about was how this would impact all of you. I don’t ever want to hurt you or let you down.”

Lorena stopped what she was doing and turned to face her husband. “What makes you think you’ll do that?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, letting out a shaky breath. “I thought I had all the confidence in the world when I signed that contract. Now, what I just hope for is that…”

“Don’t do this,” Lorena said, approaching him and gathering his face in her hands. “I told you, you will be alright. Yes, things will be a bit rough, as it is with any new job, but once you get settled in, you’ll know what you have to do. You will figure out how best to serve and take charge of the players, and in time, they will trust you. But you have to allow yourself the opportunity.”

Mikel nodded again as his wife pulled his face close to him and kissed his lips softly, whispering, “I have faith in you.”

As she walked back to the stove, Mikel mulled over his wife’s words. He was new to the position, for sure, but that did not mean he would never learn. He figured coaching the team would be the easy part. It was just the presence of a certain someone that would be difficult. For now, he shook that prospect from his mind. He was back with the team in a different capacity. Damning the consequences, he had to show he was right for the job, once and for all.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very slow burn. It's definitely a developing story, but the meeting between Mikel and Hector will be coming soon!

Héctor felt the water hit his back as he stood in the shower after practice, his eyes closed as he slowly leaned his head underneath the spray. Practice had been stressful, but he was grateful it was over. There were other pressing matters that he had to deal with.

He had been told his fitness was a concern for the weekend game, but Héctor had assured the physios he was up to snuff. But he could not shake the twinge in his groin, a nagging injury that developed in the past few days. Considering the spill he took in practice, that had not helped matters much. Nonetheless, he vowed to work his way back to the starting eleven for Sunday’s fixture. He had hoped the warmth of the shower would help soothe the aching muscle, among other things.

Héctor took his time in the shower, letting every part of his body get soaked. He turned to face the wall, placing a bent arm against the cool marble tile and leaning his forehead against it. Mikel was going to be at the game, but only as a spectator, and Héctor had no plans of looking for him. And yet, a part of him longed to show off how good he became even after Mikel left him. Unfortunately, his presence came after Héctor’s recovery from a major injury. There was no phone call from Mikel checking up on him when he was down; why would Héctor expect anything more now?

Mikel stayed on his mind, though. He could feel his hands caress his body, his lips against his ear. He recalled fingertips on his thighs as their bodies touched. Even now, as he stood in the shower, all he wanted was to hear his former lover’s voice.

_Héctor, Héctor…_

Héctor felt his eyes stinging, and he realized he had been crying. He started to wipe the tears away with a wet hand when he heard his name being called again.

“Héctor,” the voice called. “Héctor!”

It was not Mikel, but Kieran again. Héctor snapped out of his daydream and stood up straighter, his eyes glassy. He composed himself enough to face Kieran, who stood fully dressed in the doorway. Héctor turned off the shower and quickly grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his waist as he walked out of the shower. Kieran watched him walking into the bustling changing room and followed him, his eyes traveling as Héctor unwrapped the towel at his locker. Even with other players around, it just felt like the two of them were there. As he pulled his underwear and pants on, Héctor could feel Kieran’s eyes on him.

“You don’t have to stare, you know,” he said, never turning around. “I’m fine.”

Kieran felt his heart sink at the sound of his friend’s deadpanned voice. He hesitated, then replied, “I’ll wait for you outside.”

As he turned to walk away, Héctor quickly reached out to him and grabbed his arm. Sensing his hurt, he pulled Kieran closer to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he said to him, shaking his head. “You didn’t deserve that. You also don’t need me to hide from you.”

Kieran smiled wanly at Héctor before he spoke. “It’s alright. I know you have a lot on your mind. Just know that I’m there for you, that’s all.”

Héctor smiled back. “And I’m grateful for it. Thank you.”

He reached over and kissed Kieran’s cheek, which made the Scotsman turn a bright red. It was typical of Héctor to show affection, but even Kieran could not help but feel something different whenever such actions were shown. Sure, he was concerned for his friend’s well-being, but he did not want to push it too far. Instead, he chuckled a bit.

“Your hair’s still wet, Heccy,” he said, complaining. “It’s drippin’ all over my tracksuit!”

“It’s not the worst thing in world, KT, c’mon,” Héctor retorted with laughter. “Anyway, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Kieran agreed with a nod. “Okay.”

As Kieran walked out of the changing room, Héctor sighed deeply before he finished his dressing. Some of the other players there tried to chat him up; others gave their greetings before simply leaving. Neither one of them was persistent as Kieran, though. He seemed to have a vested interest in Héctor’s feelings, but Héctor chalked up to reciprocity. Perhaps the concern Kieran was showing was the universe’s way of putting things in order, making up for the kindness shown to him early on. Or maybe, he was just being a friend. With a huff, Héctor pursed his lips and banished the cynicism from his thoughts as he walked out of the door.

**********************

Calella was miles away from London, but Héctor thought of it every day when the weather up north was unbearably cold. A seaside town in Barcelona, Héctor spent his formative years there, escaping in games of football and going to the beach whenever possible. He came from a close-knit, working-class family who encouraged his dream of playing the game he loved and who he kept in contact with regularly, especially when things were not always going so well.

Now, however, it was hard to tell them the truth about what he was feeling. So, he said nothing.

He refused to worry his family back home about the inner turmoil he faced, although it was difficult when his mother was asking him about Mikel’s return. He explained that he had not seen the man in a few years and that it would be interesting to see him in a role as a coach. With that, he was honest, but he did not want to talk about his affair or his heartbreak. He already envisioned the disappointment on his parents’ faces.

He wondered if he faced the same reaction if he told other people. He knew it was possible to be ostracized by the public, and then everything he worked so hard for would be destroyed. And as much as he loved his family and cared about Kieran, he was not sure they needed to know.

But the longer he kept it a secret, the more it ate at him.

Héctor thought about all this at the end of the day when he was about to leave London Colney. He had spent the day with Kieran talking about nothing in particular, and it seemed he was a lighter Héctor again. He missed that, just shooting the shit and not having to worry about an emotional burden. Kieran kept him sane at times, and he could help but believe he needed it.

“One day, you should come over to my place, yeah,” he declared to Kieran as they stood in the parking lot. “We could play video games.”

“Just to beat you at C.O.D.?” Kieran teased, gently punching Héctor’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll take you up on that offer!”

The two of them laughed heartily, until Kieran cocked his head to the side and looked at Héctor. Noticing the glance, Héctor furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Nothin’, mate,” Kieran sighed. “I’m just… You know…”

“Worried about me?”

Kieran gave Héctor a lopsided smile and replied, “It wasn’t that exactly. It’s just… I missed your smile.” He shifted his feet on the gravel and looked down. “Maybe it’s harder these days, but I know I’m not the only one.”

“It’ll come back, mate,” Héctor quietly reassured him. “Just give me time.”

He reached over and embraced Kieran, gently squeezing him against his chest. Kieran wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. He was only saying goodbye, but the warmth was there, and he did not want to let go. It was not what he wanted, but for the moment, it was enough.


End file.
